Stray Shots
by dairysorbet
Summary: Four months have passed since Knives and Vash's fateful encounter, and Knives remains involuntarily in the custody of his twin brother. It's a dark past they share, but what secrets lurk on his side of the fence? [Knives]
1. Knives are Weapons

Knives sat motionless in his wooden chair, looking out of the small town's newly found serenity. The street beyond the veranda he rested on was quiet, but gave off a feeling of warmth and safety. Times had changed since Knives' tyranny had silently governed the lives of those living on this desolate planet, and four short months after Vash had carried his brother towards a brighter future, the dank stench of repression that had clung to this world for these many years had finally began to subside.

"Mr. Knives?" a soft voice called from inside the house.

Without his lost technology, Knives' body had been left forever damaged after he and the Humanoid Typhoon had gone head to head. He had remained involuntarily in the custody of his brother, along with the insurance girls who seemed to have gained permanent residency by Vash's side.

"Mr. Knives?" the voice called again.

Although Knives' elitist and barbaric views towards mankind had softened over the past few months, his sharp tongue and incredible intellect made it nearly impossible for anyone, bar Vash who made a constant effort, to actually want to be in his presence. This applied doubly so to Milly who, although she put on a brave front, was still devastated by the loss of one Nicolas D. Wolfwood.

"Mr. Knives?" Milly repeated again, swallowing her growing frustration. Knives turned his head slightly towards the doorway where she stood and silently acknowledged her presence. In the four months he had come to live amongst the trio, this had proven to be the closest thing to polite conversation either of the girls had gotten, so disregarding his rudeness, Milly continued on.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?" She asked, kindly, "I'm making Mr. Vash sandwiches and I thought I should ask just in case and--"

Knives snorted in response. To think a supreme being such as himself had fallen to this level of inferiority – needing the help of humans. It was this that had puzzled him about his brother more and more these past few months; what use was it that he saw in them?

Milly sighed, an annoyed look on her face. Even though she would never forgive the _thing_ that had cost her her beloved priest, she didn't want him to starve to death, and she had seldom seen him eat anything. The tall woman ran her fingers through her hair and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Knives was left once again to his solitude, the one thing that seemed to leave him contented.

"BRO-THER!" a familiar, giddy voice sang from inside. Knives cringed in anticipation. Suddenly, from out the door, the great, tall man who on many occasions had been referred to as the Humanoid Typhoon came bounding out to cuddle his brother. It was a priceless moment that in any other household would have given both parties "the warm and fuzzies". However, this was Knives' subsequent response; rather a growl of disgust and a quick elbow to his brother's stomach.

"Ow…! Knives…!" whined Vash, withdrawing from the hug. "What did you do that for?" he clutched his stomach.

"I don't believe I ever gave you permission to do that, brother." Knives replied, coldly, "So, please, contain yourself."

"Aww… But brothe-e-e-er…!" Vash continued, poking his shoulder, "that's no fun!"

Knives sneered. "You think I'm having _fun_?" He glared at him. Vash stepped back, the joy slipping from his face. It had been the same scenario over and over again ever since the day they had fought – Vash would open up, only to receive a verbal slap in the face from his brother.

"Why couldn't you just have killed me then?" Knives continued, "I know you must have wanted to." A look of what seemed like sadness fell upon his face, as he turned to watch the darkening street again. "You did want to, didn't you brother? You never could understand that what I did was for _our_ benefit."

Vash clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the inevitable topic.

"That woman- they all were against you and I. I did what I had to do to save us! But you never saw it that way, did you Vash?"

Tears began to form in his brother's eyes.

"You think we're all equals on this rock, don't you?" Knives snapped, "You think what I've done is wrong? Sick! Then just crush me, brother. Do want you so badly want to do."

Vash ground his teeth, turning his head away from Knives, as he tried to control his growing lust for vengeance. Vengeance – this was a concept he has dismissed long ago in an attempt to better honour Rem's memory. However, when his brother spoke of her the SEEDS members this way, he couldn't help but feel his anger and hatred grow inside him again.

"I only want you to be happy, Vash." Knives spoke, eerily. "So why don't you just do it? Crush me! Destroy me! Kill the butterflies to save the _spiders_."

With a slam of the door, Vash stormed back inside the house. He couldn't trust himself to stay outside with his brother any longer, not that Knives would have cared about Vash's wrath. More than anything else, he held his own inabilities in contempt. Knives welcomed death and the end of his suffering; if he had had access to his guns, suicide would have been high on his agenda. To his dismay, this had been the first thing Vash had seen to, the day the pair had fought. He had confiscated Knives' gun and had disabled his twin mechanical arm, leaving the broken man without weapon, and as such, without means to end it all.

It was well past dark when Knives finally hobbled inside. Milly and Vash were both asleep in their respective beds and everything was quiet except for the ticking sounds of Meryl, typing away at her reports. She, too, had had a bit of a lifestyle change of late, resigning as a Bernardelli Insurance worker and getting a job in the accounting department of the town's water distribution company. Knives ignored her presence and made his way into his room. With a groan, he collapsed heavily onto the bed. Although he liked to hide it, walking the short distance between his room and the porch really took its toll on his degenerative muscles. The beating he took – no mere human would have survived. Exhaustion coursed through his body and as he slipped in and out of consciousness, he dreamt of what he always had – the SEEDS mission and She who he had cared so much about.


	2. Gunshot Residue

_So I'm finally uploading chapter two. To be honest, I didn't know if I would, as I wasn't sure how high a standard I'd written my last chapter to. But I'd like to that my three readers thus far for their lovely comments :) This next chapter is slightly shorter and focuses mainly on Meryl. Actually, I think that I'm going to focus the next few chapters on establishing relationships and whatnot, so bare with me nn; Please enjoy, constructive critism is sort after._

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Trigun, nor the charactersit contains. I do however claim this fan fiction's concepts and... yeah, you get it :)**

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The morning started early for Meryl, as the day's first rays of sun seeped in through the window and stirred her from her typewriter pillow. Again she had pulled an all-nighter, ending her previous night's report with an indistinguishable mess of letters. It seemed as though, even with her recent career change, Miss Stryfe still wasn't getting a healthy amount of rest, which wasn't surprising, with the town's still flourishing liquid goldmine. As the town continued to sell water to neighbouring cities, the recording of financial details became more vital, making Meryl's job all the more important and demanding. She, of course, didn't mind though, as she had always wanted to something more substantial, and this new line of work gave her the satisfaction she had always desired.

As always, she had been the first one up. Vash had, of late, gotten into the habit of sleeping in and this had always been the case for Milly. However, none of them knew what was to be said about Knives. His inconsistent rising patterns finally lead to trio to just give up trying and let the hermit get and leave his room at his whim. For all they knew, he could've just lain awake all night, plotting against them, leaving his room at a seemingly quiet time of day. Whatever the case may have been, Meryl didn't really care. She had very little to do with Knives, and this seemed to suit both of them fine. It proved fairly disheartening to Vash, however, so whenever an effort was put forward on Meryl's part, it was almost certainly done to please that buffoon of an outlaw.

Vash's bedroom door creaked. From inside the room peered out a tired-looking face. Meryl looked over and smiled. She was greeted in return with an almost creepy grin, as Vash emerged from the doorway. With just a white shirt and brown pants on, his hair messy and glistening in the sun, he seemed almost angelic, which was a concept that made Meryl blush terribly.

"Oh, er," she stammered, nervously, "Good morning, Vash. You're up early this morning."

He stretched out his arms, yawning. "Yeah, couldn't sleep." He murmured, making his way over to the previous morning's pot of coffee. "Oh?" she replied, "why's that?"

"Just thinking about some things." he continued, unfazed. A look of intense thought fell upon his face, though, and Meryl began to worry again about just how deep Vash's scars ran. When he had told him about his past those many months ago, many things that had puzzled her about the humanoid typhoon all became clear. The air of mystery about him, his vow never to kill - all these traits that had questioned themselves everyday in her mind had gotten answers. Still, from time to time, Meryl would wonder if there were even more painful memories that Vash kept to himself, ones that she could never hope to grasp.

The increasing silence that had grown between them was soon broken however, by a familiar gurgling sound. A dumb smile quickly stretched across Vash's face, and Meryl smiled apathetically. "That's just like you." She sighed, hanging her head, as she wandered into the kitchen. "What do you want for breakfast? Vash bounced excitedly over to her, like a puppy before its walk. "I declare there shall be bacon!" he proclaimed dramatically, striking a pose.

For no apparent reason, a black cat that left him with a strange sense of dé ja vu scurried between his legs and into the two girls' shared bedroom.

"Arg, you're such a handful!" Meryl snapped, spooning spread onto a piece of badly burnt toast. "You know none of us can afford that sort of luxury! What else do you want?"

"Cat." He exclaimed, still surprised by the feline's odd antics.

"CAT!" Meryl screeched, the contents of her mouth spilling out. "You really are a brute!"

Vash looked up in shock, realising what he had just said. "No- what? Eh, no. I don't wan- I mean there was a- eh--!" he sighed in defeat. The dumbstruck man pondered this for a moment but soon disregarded the cat as a figment of his imagination. Whatever it had been, it had taken his mind off Rem and the others for a moment, and for that he was grateful.


End file.
